


Safe Harbour

by QuokkaFoxtrot



Category: Pacific Rim (2013)
Genre: AU, Ex-Navy Newt, Ex-RAF Hermann, Historical Inaccuracy, Lighthouse Keeper AU, Lighthouse Keeper Hermann, M/M, Newtvember, Scholar Abroad Newt, The War Perineum as I like to call it, Vague Post-WWI AU, vague references to period-typical homophobia
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-23
Updated: 2014-11-23
Packaged: 2018-02-24 16:52:05
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,359
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2589065
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/QuokkaFoxtrot/pseuds/QuokkaFoxtrot
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Hermann is a lighthouse keeper. Newt is a scholar abroad.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Safe Harbour

**Author's Note:**

> Another one where Antheia gave me a three word prompt: Laugh, Bridge, and Call. No idea how I got to a Lighthouse Keeper AU from there.

The fog is thick and harsh against the back of Newt's throat as he picks his way carefully down the rocky cliffside path. He's buffeted by the wind and dips his head to nose his scarf up over his mouth until he can breathe the warm humid air that pulls through the soft wool. Visibility drops around three feet in front of him and there's condensation building up on his glasses. He can see the ghostly swoop of yellow light as it goes around, but he's too disoriented to use it to pinpoint where he's going with any degree of accuracy.

"Marco!" He bellows into the soup, pausing and holding his bags as still as possible to listen for the response.

There's a creak of a door opening and a returned "Polo!" to his left and he adjusts his course, tapping forward with his toe before he sets his weight. He takes a few more tentatively probing steps and calls again, waiting for the response before moving on. Twenty minutes of back and forth with only two near misses and he can make out the shadowy form standing outside the door to the lighthouse. 

He takes the last few steps more confidently and then Hermann's wrapping an arm around his shoulder and ushering him inside.

"Get those boots and jumper off; I've just stoked the fire," Hermann says, relieving Newt of one of his bags and setting it by the cold box. "There's hot chocolate on. Dry your hair."

"Yes, mom," Newt says as he drops his remaining bag and shrugs off his heavy jacket. He hangs it on the hook by the door and plops himself onto a chair to tug at his bootlaces. He pulls one off and Hermann drops a towel over his head, rubbing at the short strands as Newt squawks, "Hey, watch the glasses!" He tilts his head up to frown at Hermann through the folds of the towel but it softens quickly as Hermann drops a kiss to his forehead.

"I'm glad you're back safely," he murmurs into Newt's hairline before pulling back and scrubbing again.

"I'm glad I'm back at all," Newt says when Hermann decides he's done and hangs the towel over the back of the chair. "Fog's so thick we could probably bring it in in buckets."

"Did you find out why the deliveries stopped?" Hermann asks as he makes his way back to the stove and pours the hot chocolate into a big red mug.

"Herc's truck broke down. They're waiting on parts from Glasgow," Newt responds as he accepts the cup and wraps his hands around. He hunches over and blows on the warm liquid to heat up his face, fogging up his glasses again in the process. "It'll probably be another week before it's fixed, but we should have enough to last us until then."

"Lorry," Hermann corrects absently as he drapes a blanket over Newt's back.

"Oh, yes, terribly sorry. Herc's _lorry_ broke down, toodle-pip, wot-wot, cheery-bye," Newt says in a terrible accent and snickers as Hermann swats his knee and sits in the chair beside him.

"If you're going to stay here, you'd best get used to the language variations," Hermann says, eyes darting to the windows before leaning against Newt and pressing a soft kiss to his cheek.

"About that..." Newt tenses as he looks over at Hermann.

"Don't. We'll work something out," Hermann says in a pinched tone, staring intently at the fire through the open mouth of the pot-bellied stove.

"It's been nearly a year, Herm," Newt says, biting his lip. "There's only so long I can tell them I need more samples before they start getting suspicious."

"We can pretend their letters got lost in the post. You know what these distances are like; sometimes letters from America just don't make it to small Scottish villages. It wouldn't be the first time." Hermann aims a sly smile at Newt but it shifts into a mask of determination as he sees Newt worrying at his lower lip. "We will _work something out_ ," Hermann says again more forcefully, wrapping an arm around Newt's shoulders, holding him close. "For now, you're the scholar abroad, and I'm the lighthouse keeper who took you in. There will be a way and we will find it."

"I hope you're right," Newt says with a sigh, relaxing into Hermann's embrace. "Is there any room in the budget for a kept man?" Newt wiggles his eyebrows at Hermann, smiling into the kiss that Hermann presses gently to his lips.

"There may be room for an apprentice?" Hermann says as he pulls away, looking at Newt with tentative hope.

"I'm not giving up my research any more than you'd give up your numbers and solitude," Newt says staring down at his mug and fiddling with the handle. "When I'm done, I could see about setting up a permanent research station here? Monitoring the coastal fish populations? That's kind of important now the war's over. The Department of Agriculture might go for that..."

"We'll look into it," Hermann says and presses his lips to Newt's temple.

"Yeah." Newt takes a sip and leans against Hermann, adjusting the blanket so it's over Hermann's knees, too. "When did you last refill the lamp and check the chimney?"

"I'd just come down when you called."

"So we have a few hours then," Newt says with a sly grin, turning in his chair to press up against Hermann. "I'm still a little chilly. You should warm me up."

"Should I now?" Hermann says, smiling into the kiss as Newt sets his mug down and wraps an arm around Hermann's middle.

"I could be hypothermic," Newt says, kissing his way down Hermann's neck, nudging aside the thick, wooly turtleneck to get at more skin. "You should put me to bed. Heat transfer works best skin to skin."

"In that case, do I really have a choice?" Hermann says, laughing as Newt stands - refusing to remove his lips from Hermann's neck - and pulls him up.

Stretching to the side, Newt grabs Hermann's cane and shoves it in his hand before pulling him towards the stairs where Hermann pushes him into the curve of the wall.

Hermann guides Newt's head up and kisses him infuriatingly slowly, sliding his hands up under Newt's sweater and over his sides. He pushes the thick knit up until he has to break away to pull it over Newt's head and off his arms, tossing it to the floor as Newt adjusts his skewed glasses and pulls him back for another kiss.

"We've miles to go before we reach our bed," Hermann says against Newt's lips as Newt rucks Hermann's shirt up to get his hands on skin.

"Let's just- We can do it here," Newt says, dragging his lips over Hermann's jaw and pulling him close until they're pressed together hard, erections rubbing snugly beside each other.

Hermann shudders and drags his lips away from Newt's, turning his head so Newt can't reinitiate.

"It's too exposed; too dangerous. We've already done too much," Hermann says and pulls himself away, breathing heavily as he casts his eyes out the windows to the foggy landscape beyond. "Come up to the bedroom." He turns abruptly and starts the ascent up the wide spiral, still glancing out the windows with a frown. 

Newt sighs and follows behind, but doesn't protest. They're most of the way up when Newt reaches up with both hands and presses them firmly against Hermann's ass. 

Hermann jolts and throws a glare over his shoulder. Newt just shrugs and tries to look innocent.

"You looked a little unsteady there. I'm just helping," he says with wide eyes and a gentle squeeze of his fingers.

Hermann snorts and shakes his head and then they're on the landing and Newt's crowding in on Hermann.

Newt presses up against his back, hands sliding down to cup him through his trousers as they walk through the door to the bedroom.

Nobody can see them up here; nobody can sneak up through the fog to the window and see them at their most vulnerable. They're safe up here in the bedroom with its curved walls and plush bed. He's safe in Newt's arms, body warm and solid against his back.

He turns in Newt's embrace, tossing his cane to the side, and allows Newt to tug his sweater over his head. It's thrown on a chair and then Newt's sliding Hermann's suspenders over his shoulders and letting them hang by his side as he undoes his trousers.

Hermann's too caught up in kissing Newt and working on the buttons of his shirt to do more than step out of them and kick them away before pushing Newt's shirt off his shoulders and tugging open his long johns to get his hands on skin. He sinks to the bed, pushing the covers back behind him as Newt yanks his undershirt over his head and tosses it across the room. Leaning forward, Hermann lets his fingers ghost across the faded lines of maps and treasure chests and a giant squid pulling a ship underwater, and kisses the soft, forgiving flesh. 

Newt smiles and brushes his fingers through Hermann's hair, stroking over the length at the top and scraping his nails through the stubble at the back.

"It's never going to cease to amaze me how much you like them," Newt says with a small, pleased smile. 

Hermann looks up at the statement, lips dragging across skin as he responds. "The Navy seemed to have more attractive men in their ranks - with or without the tattoos," Hermann says with a twinkle in his eye. "Always did like a sailor."

"I was a midshipman and I did _one_ tour before I got an honorable discharge. We didn't even see combat," Newt says with a shake of his head. "I was barely a sailor; nothing dangerous happened except getting the ink."

"Good," Hermann says breaking eye contact with Newt and looking down at his finger tracing slowly over the lines etched into his skin. "It sounds like it was safer than the RAF."

The smile falls from Newt's face and then he's gently pushing Hermann down onto the bed, covering him with his body and kissing wherever he can reach. "You're safe now," Newt says, rising on his elbows to cradle Hermann's face in his hands. "I'm not going to let anything happen to you."

"I know." Hermann smiles sadly into the kiss and draws back to stare at Newt. He opens and closes his mouth with aborted sounds in the back of his throat before he shakes it off and his fingers slide under the loose waistband of Newt's trousers. "Take these off."

Newt wiggles back and shucks off his trousers, kicking them off the edge of the bed, before tossing his glasses on the side table and pressing himself up against Hermann's side and pulling the covers up over them.

They kiss and touch in the dim light straining weakly through the small window, body heat trapped under the heavy down comforter as they meander their way towards completion. The destination feels irrelevant as they get caught up in the reassurance of sensation; lips wander where they will, worshiping every patch of skin they touch; fingers trace their way here and there for no more reward than a shudder and a sigh. Words are whispered, caught on the lips of the other and swallowed with a kiss. 

When they reach their destination, it comes as a slow-moving wave that doesn't break harshly, just settles on the shore, spreading out with lazy satisfaction. They're sweaty and sated, Newt wipes drapes over Hermann, head resting on his chest and Hermann's fingers stroking slowly through his hair.

"I think I love you," Newt says quietly into the smattering of hair in the centre of Hermann's chest. He feels Hermann's breath hitch under his ear and tenses until Hermann kisses the top of his head and his fingers resume their movement.

"I _know_ I love you," Hermann murmurs into Newt's hair.

"Always gotta go one better," Newt says and presses a kiss to Hermann's pectoral.

"And yet," Hermann says, stroking a hand down Newt's back. "I could not go one better than you." He kisses the top of Newt's head and squeezes him tight. "And I wouldn't want to."

"I'm gonna do everything I can to make sure you don't have to," Newt says as he squeezes Hermann back and pats his side. "I want to _stay_ here in your little lighthouse by the bay."

" _Our_ little lighthouse by the bay," Hermann corrects with a smile as Newt rubs a hand down his stomach.

"Our little lighthouse by the bay," Newt agrees sleepily. "Just you and me and the fish."

"You and me and the fog," Hermann says and laughs as Newt pokes him in the side.

"Going one better again," Newt says with a roll of his eyes and lazily pulls himself up to lean over Hermann and kiss him slowly. "You gotta stop that."

"Where's the sport in that?" Hermann asks into Newt's lips and Newt groans.

"One day, I'm going to get the last word in," Newt says with a shake of his head. "It's gonna be _amazing_." He drops a last kiss to Hermann's lips and turns to swing his legs over the edge of the bed. "We should get up. Lighthouse isn't going to run itself."

Hermann reaches out to grasp Newt's arm and draw him back down to the bed. "Just a little while longer," he says in response to Newt's raised eyebrow. "I wouldn't want to hinder your recovery."

Newt smirks and lies beside Hermann once more, wrapping an arm around him and settling his head beneath Hermann's chin.

They lay in silence and listen to the sounds of the wooden beams creaking as they settle and the waves crashing on the rocks that line the cliffs, knowing there's a bright and shining light sweeping through the fog to keep the ships safe at sea, and them safe and secure in their little lighthouse by the bay.

**Author's Note:**

> I'm in the midst of moving to another country, travelling, and having the flu, and didn't have time to do anywhere near enough research. I tried to make sure the lighthouse stuff was period accurate, but it's probably full of anachronism elsewhere.
> 
> I may have based the lighthouse on the one from [Round the Twist](http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Round_the_Twist). I don't think northern Scotland would have one quite that big. Nor do I have any idea why Hermann would be a lighthouse keeper in that area after the First World War.
> 
> Also, the internet was kind of quiet about what a 1920/30s era lighthouse keeper would do during extreme fog, but I'm pretty sure the answer wasn't 'bang a dude'. Probably had something to do with foghorns, more like.


End file.
